


Novorossiya

by Anonymous



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Current Events, Gen, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Liberal Russian, Politics, Written for a Class, forced hospitalization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Belarus's big sister is involuntarily hospitalized for her political views, he goes to rescue her.
Relationships: Nyo!Belarus & Nyo!Russia, Nyo!Belarus & Nyo!Ukraine, Nyo!Belarus &Nyo!Russia &Nyo!Ukraine, Nyo!Russia &Nyo!Ukraine
Kudos: 1
Collections: Anonymous





	Novorossiya

St. Petersburg Psychiatric Hospital of Specialized Type with Intense Observation.  _ Novuy Sankt-Peterburg*, Novorossiya* _

_ Dear Nikolai, _

_ Zdravstvuyte*. This is your sister, Anya Braginskaya, better known to the people of my country as the human representation of Novorossiya*. I know that we haven’t spoken since the fall of the previous state of my country, so I’ll let you know how I wound up in a mental hospital. _

_ When the Partiya Novorossiya* took over, the looming threat of the loss of choice due to Biblical “sins” irrelevant to modern culture became a reality. Joining two men or two women in holy Matrimony became strictly prohibited- though it always has been- and any mention of this “violation of nature’s intentions,” as my boss calls it, was censored from all media outlets. Simply reacting positively to the subject when it is brought up up in casual conversation can get you arrested with a sentence for the length of, and I quote, “however long it takes for you to learn your lesson.”  _

_ My government is always watching everything, carefully monitoring innocent citizens, should any of them make the smallest, most obscure mistake that could land them in jail- or worse, lead them to the gallows. For example, they watch students read the few textbooks and books they haven’t banned or heavily censored and analyze their reactions to- this comes from one of the official legal documents of Novorossiya*- “determine if they are a sinner or dissident.” The case for the banning of a textbook or book may be made if it contains “dissidential speech, an excerpt from or a mention of the writings of a dissident, even if it is not related to politics or religion, or a mention of nonbelievers, abortion, vegetarians, and other topics deemed too controversial and sinful for discussion by the Russian Orthodox Church.” Anybody who was _ \-  _ key word,  _ was-  _ a dissident or nonbeliever was promptly executed under the discretion of the First Executive Order, and even the most virtuous of vegetarians were forced to eat meat. The witch hunt continues even as I write. _

_ As you can probably tell, my government has deemed Novorossiya* a religious state- every individual who lives here has been forced to actively practice the beliefs of the Russian Orthodox Church. Those who were already doing so had their social status elevated. _

_ The things I am telling you about in this letter are only a small sampling of the crimes against humanity my government has committed. _

_ Also, if you’re wondering about the murder of our brother Dima*, known formally as Ukraine… _

_ I was forced to kill him when my government ordered me to eliminate the threat of Ukraine becoming independent. I’m not even supposed to tell you this, Nikolai, but… he became part of my country. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for this, even if a new Ukraine is created when my country falls. _

_ Anyhow, this is  _ my  _ explanation of exactly why I’m in the mental hospital in the first place. _

_ A few years after the Partiya Novorossiya* took over, I found out about the crimes against humanity they were committing. I was brainwashed before. In fact, now that I reflect on it, how I was brainwashed was almost in the exact same manner to when you, Dima*, and I, along with other countries, were forced into becoming the Soviet Union. Ironic, isn’t it?  _

_ I had come to think at first that my new boss was the savior of my country, a heroine. I was misled into believing the fabricated lie that she would pull my country out of its economic peril created by the Fascist Revolution backed by  _ her party’s _ propaganda and money. Even more sickening is the myth that we would be saved by her from the loss of our fundamental rights. I helplessly watched as my country became increasingly destitute, impoverished, and undemocratic.  _

_ I became a political activist, disguising myself with wigs and colored contacts purchased from the extremely cloak-and-dagger- not to mention illegal- black market and joined my people in the protests and (failed) coup d’etats against the government. This disguise worked for a few years, but I was eventually ratted out by the man who had been selling me my disguises. _

_ My boss was livid. She shunned me, took away my position as her advisor, and almost executed me- she would have if I was not the human representation of her  _ oh-so-precious _ country. _

_ That was when I broke. _

_ In the centuries I had been alive, I told her, I had never seen any government so oppressive and cruel since the Soviet Union. I wanted her out- out of the government, out of Novuy Donetsk*, and out of the country. Resentful tears poured down my cheeks as I warned her about all of the minorities whose rights she had taken away that were planning to kill her, and ended on the note that she should go live in the tundra, because that’s what she deserves. She stared at me for a few seconds, then ordered her bodyguards to take me to a mental hospital on legal grounds. “Any dissident,” the law proclaims, “is insane and shall be regarded as such for as long as they live.” _

_ So, that’s how I ended up here, broken, alone, and ashamed. _

_ I hope someone will save me. _

_ So vsemi moyey lyubvi*, _

_ Anya _

_ P.S. I apologize for the heavy censoring of this letter. _

_ P.P.S. I hope Belarus is doing well and that your economy is flourishing. _

***

When Nikolai got the letter from his sister, he didn’t know how to feel. Upon its arrival, he was delighted that Anya was, in fact, still alive and had chosen to contact him. 

Then he read it.

“I swear…” Nikolai hissed, “I  _ will  _ give her government a piece of my mind! I  _ will  _ bail Anya out!  _ I will not _ let the government of that racist, misandrist, biased, bigoted,  _ fascist  _ state filled with ignorant chauvinists who don’t get enough blood flow to their brains  _ take control of my sister’s  _ **_life_ ** !”

Once his heartbeat returned to its normal rate, Nikolai started searching for his cellphone and his checkbook. In his fit of rage, he had come up with a plan. It was a bad idea- no, a terrible idea- in and of itself, but he knew how he would rescue Anya.

***

“Novorossiya*.” A rather large nurse opened Anya’s door, releasing a squeak from its rusty hinges.

“Da*?”

“You have a visitor.”

“A… a visitor?” Anya was hopeful. Did her brother really decide to bail her out even after what she had done to Dmitry? 

“They  _ claim _ they will take you back to your home in Novuy Donetsk*.”

“O-okay, ma’am! I’ll go to see them right away!” Anya shoved past the nurse and ran to the visiting area in the hospital. 

The small gray room was filled to the brim with patients and their families, but Nikolai was nowhere to be seen.

“Maybe he’s late,” Anya shifted in her seat, “or maybe… he  _ didn’t _ get my letter! I wonder which it is. Oh, I hope he’s-”

“You owe me money.” The sudden statement that interrupted Anya’s train of thought came from a tall Belarusian man with chin-length auburn hair that had a long, stubborn cowlick. He donned a long gray coat with a trim of black fur, black tuxedo pants, and black leather loafers. At first, Anya thought she was hallucinating, but soon realized that her brother, the human representation of Belarus, was, in fact, standing behind her.

“Nikolai!” Anya hugged her brother tightly and openly sobbed into his shoulder out of sheer joy and relief. “I haven’t seen you in 50 years! Not since the fall of the old government!”

“50 years…” Nikolai sighed and pet his sister’s long, nearly-white hair . “It’s been such a long time.”

“It has.” Anya wiped away a tear and released her brother. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“Before you get too excited, I have to drop off the money I owe the hospital for your early release.” Nikolai stated.

“Right.” Anya giggled sheepishly and followed Nikolai to the hospital’s main office. He slid a check for 13,700,000,000 Belarusian rubles* under the glass window and walked his sister to the car he had rented to pick her up. 

***

Once Nikolai started driving, he questioned Anya about her letter and what life was now like in her country. She answered every single one of his questions to the best of her ability whilst trying desperately to make kind comments about her government so as to not get sent back to the hospital. The final topic the two arrived at was the death of their older brother.

“So, about Dima*...” Anya started.

“It’s okay.” Nikolai reassured her. “You did not kill him for your personal gain, or because he was in the wrong about an issue. You were forced to kill him. It was an order from your government. Those stab wounds in his corpse are not your fault.”

“I did nothing to stop my government from making the decision to kill him. It’s  _ entirely _ my fault.”

“Anya, even if you did say something, your government would not have listened to you. Fascists do not listen to dissidents. They only abuse their misery as fuel for their power.”

“Nikolai…” Anya trailed off as the rental car pulled into the curb in front of the Kremlin*. “Do svidaniya, malen’kiy brat*.”

“No goodbyes yet.” Nikolai placed his gloved hand on Anya’s shoulder. “I’m staying here.”

“W-what? But why?”

“I want to help.”

“With what?” Anya laughed nervously for added effect.

“I want to help you restore your country,” Nikolai whispered. “I want to help your economy and bring your ruble* back to its former value. I want to help destroy the corruption in your government. Most importantly, I want to help eliminate all of the bigotry, racism, and nationalism from your system.”

“Nikolai, you’re Belarusian. Though I’ve never stated it outright, I know for a fact that you know how xenophobic my government is.”

“We’re siblings. I’m sure they will allow me to stay for a while.”

“Blood relations do not matter to them.” Anya snapped. “The only way they will allow for this is if you gave them more money than you already have. I’d love for you to stay, little brother, but trust me, it would not work out. Ya izvinyayus’*.” Anya climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

**///**

Nikolai was still parked outside the Kremlin* 30 minutes after his sister left. He knew it was for his own safety that Anya had refused his offer, but eventually decided that him helping her was more important than him being safe. He rang the Kremlin*’s doorbell and Anya eventually answered.

“Nikolai?” Her face paled. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away. It’s for your own safety!”

“I don’t care what your government may think. You need help, and that is that.” Nikolai squeezed his sister’s hand and followed her to her boss’s office. Anya knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.” A deceivingly warm female voice emanated from the room. Anya’s boss was short, stocky, and blonde-from-a-bottle, which was what Nikolai had expected.

“State your business,” she managed after a while of the two staring daggers at each other.

“Right.” Nikolai cleared his throat. “I would like to stay here for as long as you will allow me to.”

“For what purpose?” Anya’s boss narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“To visit Anya, of course. I have not seen my sister since your political party took over. Surely you will let me visit.”

“How long will you be visiting?”

“For a few months. Maybe longer.” Nikolai began testing the waters.

“I won’t allow it. Any visit from a foreigner lasting that long cannot possibly have good intentions, even if the one visiting is Novorossiya*’s little brother.”

“If you’re worried about me hurting Anya, don’t be. Why would I? We are family, and I have nothing against her.” 

When that did nothing to elicit a response from Anya’s boss, Nikolai continued, “I certainly have no intentions of  _ killing _ her.  _ You _ may, since you forced her to kill Dmitry in cold blood. Who  _ knows _ whom you’ll brutally murder next?”

“Nikolai-” Anya started.

“Are you implying I have no feelings?” Anya’s boss clenched her fist and slowly stood up.

“I  _ could _ be so kind as to state it outright, since all this chauvinism you store in your peanut-sized brain has obviously blocked most of your neural pathways.” Nikolai sat down and leaned back in his chair.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Anya’s boss opened her mouth to speak, but closed it.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll just say it, then, since you don’t seem to have any objections to me doing so. You’re a lying fascist who doesn’t care who she dismembers, puts out of work, or deports to make her country look like the pure, religious paradise she wants it to be.”

“Nikolai!” 

***

Anya watched as her boss and brother tried to one-up each other with carefully crafted insults about their respective political and religious- or irreligious- positions. At first, she stayed quiet, but, eventually, she’d had enough.

“ _ Stop! _ ” Anya pounded her fist on her boss’s desk. “Both of you are being so immature! Sofia Albertevna*, stop disrespecting my brother’s country! And  _ you _ ,” -she turned her attention to her brother- “need to  _ stop disrespecting my boss _ ! Apologize, both of you!”

“Ya izvinyayus’*, sestra ee Sofia Albertevna*.” Nikolai sighed.

“Ee ya, a takzhe*,” Anya’s boss sighed, “I will let Nikolai stay, but  _ only _ for a month or two.”

“Thank you.” Anya shook her boss’s hand, and proceeded to lead Nikolai to the Kremlin*’s only guest bedroom- commissioned two years ago by Sofia Albertevna*- that was usually reserved for the family of government officials.

She wondered if everything would truly be okay…

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translation notes/Belarusian currency exchange rate:
> 
> Novuy Sankt-Peterburg: New St. Petersburg  
> Novorossiya: New Russia
> 
> Zdravstvuyte: hello
> 
> Partiya Novorossiya: The New Russia Party. They are a right-wing party with the idelologies of Russian nationalism and Russian irredentism. Their headquarters are currently located in Donetsk, Ukraine.
> 
> Dima: short form of Dmitry
> 
> Novuy Donetsk: New Donetsk
> 
> So vsemi moyey lyubvi: with all of my love
> 
> Da: yes
> 
> 13,700,000,000 Belarusian rubles: 1,000,000 U.S. dollars
> 
> Kremlin: a building in Russia that serves about the same purpose as the White House
> 
> Do svidaniya, malen’kiy brat: goodbye, little brother
> 
> Ruble: Russia’s currency
> 
> Ya izvinyayus’: I am sorry
> 
> Albertevna: patronymic form of Albert. Russian customs dictate that, when addressing a person of higher social status than yourself or someone who is older than you, you use their first name along with their patronymic name.
> 
> Ee ya, a takzhe: and I, as well


End file.
